[not with a bang] top of the world (1)
Dec. 22nd, 2011 10:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
songbirdspeaksTitle: Top of the World (1)
Fandom: Johnny’s & Associates
Characters: Matsumoto Jun, Nagase Tomoya, Sakurai Sho; references to Aiba, Mabo
Pairings: Jun/Nagase
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3269
Warnings: Post-apocalyptic dystopian AU, bad justice
Summary: "I have a job for you," Nagase says, and Jun jumps back into a life he left behind three years before.
Notes: ODFKJGKDFGNJKODFJGKJDFSGJ i hate this tbh but i need to get it started sigh
"Councilor," Jun says between gritted teeth, already mentally congratulating himself for not whirling to punch his boss, "office romances are generally looked down on. Especially during review periods. We have discussed this. Now stop sexually harassing me at work."
"It's not sexual harassment if you like it," Nagase says, his broad hand still firmly pressed to Jun's buttocks. The Councilor of Commerce is a large, charming man five years Jun's senior, and Jun would be lying if he said he didn't find Nagase's roguish impropriety a little attractive sometimes, but Matsumoto Jun is a man who appreciates a little something called workplace ettiquette. Most of the time, anyway. He's sure the scene looks like something from a porno--a bad one--with Jun bent at the waist to peer into the second drawer of the short filing cabinet looking for merchant license forms and Nagase's hand resting gently on his ass. Nagase gets one good final grope in, and straightens, stretching his forearms across the top of the cabinet and looking at Jun seriously.
"I have a real job for you," he says, eventually, as Jun stacks pages. Jun walks to his immaculately ordered desk and drops his stack of papers in the center, then turns to lean on his desk and eye Nagase. When Nagase says something like that it only means one thing--that Jun can start using his espionage skills, instead of filing them away with the paperwork.
"Like what, sir," he asks, carefully keeping his voice level even though he's excited.
"Oh, you know, observing in Sakurai's office. I want you to see first-hand how the more exciting offices work. Commerce is a sleepover compared to the department of Justice."
"I... it would be an honor, sir," Jun says. He's taken aback by the command, of course, getting sent into Sakurai's office was about the last thing he expected. "I've always wanted to see more of how Chief Justice Sakurai does his work," he says, recovering. That, at least, is true. "And I look forward to working with him." That part isn't. Nagase is definitely looking for things that are dangerous, and nowhere is more dangerous than the Department of Justice. Not with Judge Sakurai at the helm.
"I'm sure you do," Nagase says, waggling his eyebrows inappropriately. Then he chucks his chin toward Jun's desk, where they both know a bug is kept.
So Jun launches into a more enthusiastic speech about how thrilled he is to be seeing how things are done in other departments and how he can't wait to learn about alternate systems for things that he can bring back to his home in the Department of Commerce, Councilor Nagase sir. Nagase reaches silently into his suit jacket and plucks a yellow square of paper from the inside pocket, which he then holds it for Jun to take.
"Keep talking like that and I'm going to think you really hate it around here," Nagase teases, while Jun slides the paper square into his half-full inbox to read later.
"That's not true," Jun says, "keeping the City's markets in order is a joy for me, you know that. Despite the sexual harrassment. Sir."
Nagase's eyes are remarkably serious when he speaks next. "Keep calling me sir and I'm going to do more than harass you, Matsumoto," he says, sliding into a leer, and Jun rolls his eyes. Of course Nagase picks up a new sense of gravity where his penis is concerned. He hears Nagase huff as he turns on his heel, pointedly ignoring the temper tantrum to come, and settles into his desk to order the licensing forms.
Jun doesn't look at the note until he's finished locking up the Councilor's darkened office. (Nagase had left hours ago, talking about doing a booze run before he settles down for the night.) The note is small, perhaps three inches on a side, and folded into fourths. Jun unfolds it when he's shut and tested the door, smoothing over the creases with his fingertips. In Nagase's distinctive scrawl is an address for an uptown apartment, and Jun wonders how Nagase's clumsy department spying hasn't been noticed before. Anyone keeping tabs on Nagase is going to assume Jun is his callboy--which, now that Jun considers it, is more clever than any other strategy Nagase might have come up with. Nagase's socializing circle and Jun's are quite different, and beyond work they've never been close friends.
He takes the only uptown train running at eight at night, flashing his official badges at the guards standing outside the gates and ignoring the eyes of loitering uptown socialites baiting curfew. He knows he looks out of place, in his season-old wool gray wool suit and striped navy blue tie amongst the slick trendy whites and greens of the men on the bar patios, but if Matsuoka Masahiro taught him anything during his spy training, it was that confidence is worn better than clothes.
He knows the apartment is uptown because no one asks for his ID at the door. The passcode for the elevator is written below the address in Nagase's note, and Jun inputs 8-7-6-4 with heavy determination. As soon as he steps into the elevator, something seems to click inside of him. He's here for a real job. He'd faced mandatory retirement at 25, and the three years in Nagase's department have been a good use of his organizational skills, but not much else.
The apartment is at the end of the hallway; the place has a name that isn't Nagase's on the plate, but the numbers match up so Jun raps on the door anyway. There's some rustling and what is clearly Nagase's voice saying 'wait one sec!' and then the door swings open. Nagase is standing there with a beer in one hand and his pants in other, looking pleased to see him. "Jun~" he says, loudly enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and drops his suit pants to get an arm about Jun's waist and haul him inside.
"Why are you not wearing any pants," Jun manages to get out in the midst of kicking his shoes off and not falling over.
"I hate pants," Nagase answers, which is apparently enough for him. He looks down at the beer in his right hand, and silently offers it to Jun. "Beer?"
"Not that one," Jun says, bending to line his shoes up to the edge of the genkan, heels together.
Jun steps after Nagase into the foyer, and blinks in surprise. He had been expecting--actually, he's not sure what he had been expecting. A sparsely decorated manpad, maybe. Something as messy and haphazard as Nagase himself. The place is actually tasteful, blacks and whites for the most part, including the leather couch that dominates the den Nagase leads him to. Jun eyes the bar set up along the other end of the room next to the TV, wondering if maybe... "Is this your actual apartment?" he asks, "it doesn't--it doesn't even look like you live here." Jun knows what a barely-lived-in apartment looks like--he lives in one, too.
Nagase shrugs, directing Jun to the couch. "I'm not in here much," he admits, "you want that beer?"
Jun leans back into the cushion of couch, dropping his briefcase on the floor. "Yeah, I think I do," he says, considering. He could probably use it.
The sound of a beer being opened is background noise next to Nagase's humming of some song from the radio that Jun barely remembers. Nagase crosses the room and presses the bottle into Jun's waiting hands, then flops back on the couch with a sigh. "...why is your leg over my thighs," Jun asks, politely.
Nagase's hand has settled on the back of Jun's neck. "So you don't run off," he ofers, with a bonus smirk that makes Jun's blood boil.
"Real job. Why," Jun says, officially out of patience as he shoves Nagase's leg away.
"Ah, calm down, we've got all night!"
"Now."
"You are the most uptight... okay, okay, don't give me that face, I'm going. I've been in the council offices for a long time--Nakai had just been promoted to Councilor of Commerce--and a lot of shit's changed, you know? Comes with the job. The one thing that didn't change? Chief Justices don't last."
"Because of the stresses of their jobs," Jun agrees.
"Oh, just come out and say it. Because of the executions. There's been a lot of Chief Justices--nobody can handle that much death. Not without abandoning whatever it is that got them promoted to the position in the first place. Nobody had lasted longer than a year before Sakurai. How long's Sakurai been in that spot?" Nagase's mouth is hard set. He looks grave.
"He's about to start his fourth year," Jun says, after a moment of calculation. "He had just been promoted when I retired from Espionage and joined the Council of Commerce."
"Exactly. Why? Don't tell me Sakurai's stronger than the rest of them--Mabo left the city when they offered him the spot, and he trained like a million spies to kill people."
"One hundred thousand, actually," Jun corrects, automatically, and then draws his mouth down. "You think they're doing something to him? Drugs or conditioning?"
"Exactly," Nagase says, pleased to have his thoughts anticipated--he's always been impatient.
"And you want me to get close to him and find out what it is. And then what do you intend to do with the information?"
Nagase shrugs. "Safeguard it so the same thing doesn't happen to you and me, probably," he says, casual about it despite the heaviness of his hand on Jun's shoulder.
Jun turns inward, toward him. "There's an us here," he asks, eyes flicking over Nagase's face.
There's no hesitation before Nagase nods. "We're in this sink or swim, together," he answers, "you can--you can say no to this. You're not an agent any more. But if you're doing this for me I'm gonna do everything I can to watch your back. You know?" His face is open; more open than Jun has ever seen it at Council meetings or in arguments with sleazy investors. It makes the hand still resting at the skin of his neck just above the suddenly-too tight suit jacket burn red hot, and Jun leans closer still, swallowing hard.
"Let's do this," he says, firmly, tongue darting out of his lips to wet at his lips. "I--I want to."
"I'm happy to have you on board," Nagase says, reaching out with his right hand to brush Jun's bangs aside with a soft brush of his fingers.
"Now just so I'm sure, let me go over this again," Jun hums, then. He leans closer, until they're sharing air. "I have to get close. Really--get into his good graces," he says, voice quiet. Nagase takes a deep breath, and releases it in a long puff across Jun's cheek when Jun pauses long for effect.
"And then you want me to find out each and every one of his secrets. Really--pull back the layers." Nagase's hands come down on heavy on the lapels of his suit coat, and the slide of his fingers down Jun's chest as he flicks the buttons open leaves a hot tingling trail even through the wool.
"Then you come back and tell me all about it," Nagase answers, pushing his hands through the cavern of Jun's open jacket to fist his hands at the sides of Jun's crisp white shirt.
Suddenly, it registers how close they are--and that Nagase is very clearly not wearing any pants. The bulge under the front flaps of Nagase's white button-down is abruptly apparent, and Jun has to drag his eyes away before he does something that will break the spell of the conversation. There will be time for that later. For now, the knot of his tie is like a noose, and Jun perches his beer between his knees before he reaches up to loosen it. He tugs at it momentarily, and then tosses it on the coffee table near his leg. Nagase's hands sieze in his shirt, pulling it taut, and he leans forward to press his mouth lightly against Jun's with a low sound in the back of his throat. Jun turns his head away after a moment, Nagase's nose pressed to his cheek.
"And then I make him forget I was ever even there," he mumbles, Nagase's face still touching his as his mouth moves. He feels it when Nagase takes a shaky breath in, then lets it out.
"Are you going to do that to me, too?" Nagase asks, his voice trailing over Jun's ear. His hands have gone flat against Jun's ribs, as level as the question now echoing in Jun's head.
"Not if you don't want me to," Jun says, carefully. He's never sure if his standing with Nagase is above or below 'guy I want to fuck'.
"I don't," Nagase answers in a rush, too quickly.
Jun is suddenly very thirsty; he fumbles for the bottle of beer and leans away, out of Nagase's space, to knock half of it back. It tingles in his belly, warm, and he glances at the contents for a moment before he settles the bottle on the coffee table, pointedly. Breaking away has resettled him; the burn under his skin has tapered some when he straightens, and he can think. "When do I start?" he asks, after a deep breath., Nagase's hands twitch over his ribs and then slide away, settling on Jun's knees instead.
"Your transfer is effective next-day," he says, and slides his hands up the top of the thighs with a smirk that is impossible to misinterpret.
Jun drops his hands heavy atop Nagase's. "Not now," he says, and flinches from the flicker of disappointment in Nagase's eyes. "You'll have to take care of Nagase Junior on your own this time."
Nagase groans, pulling away and flopping backward onto the rest of the couch. "You get off on this," he accuses, tilting his head up to stare at Jun.
"What, teasing? No, not at all, why would you say that?" Jun asks, quirking his lips.
"Nagachin hates you," Nagase informs him levelly.
It takes Jun a moment to realize Nagase is talking about his penis. "You named your dick," he says, at first, then blinks. "You named your dick--of course you named your dick, why am I surprised by this."
"He's my other half, he needs a name," Nagase answers, looking offended, "geeeez..."
"You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met," Jun finally says, shaking his head. "And now it's time for me to go home. Good night, sir. Good night... Nagachin--you couldn't have had a little more creativity?" He feels ridiculous having ever even said 'Nagachin', but apparently 'sir' does as much as he suspected and he files that particular information away for later.
"Nagachin is plenty creative," Nagase says, brows drawn down defensively, "don't be jealous of him!"
Jun has already given up on having this conversation; he's turned away, leaning forward to recover his tie and fold it up, tucking it inside his briefcase. He stands, buttoning his jacket one-handed and then stooping to fetch his bottle of beer. He's already finished his detour to the kitchen to toss it in the trash and is in the midst of putting his shoes on when he hears the sounds of Nagase stripping. "At least wait until I'm out of the apartment before you start jacking off to me," Jun commands, and glances back over his shoulder to see Nagase tossing his white button-down shirt on the floor. "I mean it," he adds, flattered but exasperated. As if he wasn't already wishing he could stay--but he needs to have to his mind on his work.
---
The Department of Justice employs roughly a third of all govenment hires, which is either really depressing or a really inspriring number to aspire to. Either way, Chief Justice and Councilor Sakurai makes his office in the same complex where Nagase and the small staff of the Department of Commerce's oversight office make their home. Jun is early--he's always early--and he lingers momentarily outside of the Department of Commerce offices, trying to see if Nagase's office light is on, before he shakes his head and walks down the hallway. By 8 AM, the massive wooden doors of the Justice Department's offices will be open, but at barely 7 Jun has to use his keycard to get inside.
There are more people inside than he expected, working in their cubicles. The place is strangely quiet the way the Commerce offices never are--generally because as soon as Kiriyama and Kawai are in a room together they work everyone else into a froth, and Nagase himself never helps the situation--and most people don't even look up when Jun walks past. It is more than a little unnerving, but Jun shrugs on all of his confidence as he passes past Sakurai's secretary's empty desk and raps twice on the open door. "Excuse me," he says, when the man bent over the espresso machine in the corner doesn't move.
"One--second--yes--hi," says Sakurai. He looks like he's been awake all night, his hair mussed and bags forming under his eyes. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his suit jacket is balled up on the floor--he probably slept on it. All in all he seems like a mess--which is why Jun's heart jumping around surprises him.
"Um," Jun says, and shakes himself. "Hello, sir, I'm Matsumoto Jun from Commerce. They have me observing here...?"
"Ah, right, Nagase's deputy, right," Sakurai says, "sorry, I've been here for two days reading up on this case. You can sit, we'll talk while I do this. You have a background in Accounting, right?"
Jun is surprised Sakurai knows this. "Yes," he says, "I got my degree in my last year of military service." Sakurai directs him to sit in one of the chairs across from the desk, and he settles into the plush green and dark wood chair with his briefcase and his overcoat pulled across his thighs.
"Right, right," Sakurai agrees, and flips through one folder, then another. "Where the hell did I put that red ledger," he grumbles half-aloud, and begins to move things around.
Jun can see it under half a stack of legal books. He reaches out, closes his fingers around it, and tugs, once, twice. "This one?" he asks, once he's holding it up, and opens it to glance through. "Ledgers for Masaki Dot Com," he adds, "right?"
"That's the one," Sakurai says, snapping his fingers and plucking it directly from Jun's hands. "They're gonna get them this time..."
"They're going to get who?" Jun asks, brow furrowed.
"Aiba Masaki and that girl of his," Sakurai answers, "they're inventors contracted to the military, we think they've been working on AI instead of weapons systems. The boys in prosecution haven't been able to nail them on anything, but if I can find them something about contract breakage in his budget books, they've got it." Sakurai looks afire with--justice, maybe. It makes Jun shift uncomfortably in his chair.
"You're the judge," he says, "aren't you--fair?"
"Oh, I'm fair," Sakurai answers, levelly. His face is very calm. "No other person in this City is more fair than me. That's why I'm the Councilor."
Jun shivers. "Of course, Councilor," he says, finally.
Sakurai seems to shake the mood off. "Call me Sho," he says, "do you mind looking at these numbers and telling me if they match up?" He thrusts the red ledger at Jun, who has no choice but to take it in his hands.
"I can do that," Jun says, "where should I...?"
"Oh, you can have my secretary's desk. She's not coming back."
Somehow, it's chilling, the way Sakurai says it. Jun leaves Sakurai's office and settles at the old Secretary's desk, and the silence seems less unnerving and more oppressive as he begins to check receipt numbers and check prices.
Fandom: Johnny’s & Associates
Characters: Matsumoto Jun, Nagase Tomoya, Sakurai Sho; references to Aiba, Mabo
Pairings: Jun/Nagase
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 3269
Warnings: Post-apocalyptic dystopian AU, bad justice
Summary: "I have a job for you," Nagase says, and Jun jumps back into a life he left behind three years before.
Notes: ODFKJGKDFGNJKODFJGKJDFSGJ i hate this tbh but i need to get it started sigh
"Councilor," Jun says between gritted teeth, already mentally congratulating himself for not whirling to punch his boss, "office romances are generally looked down on. Especially during review periods. We have discussed this. Now stop sexually harassing me at work."
"It's not sexual harassment if you like it," Nagase says, his broad hand still firmly pressed to Jun's buttocks. The Councilor of Commerce is a large, charming man five years Jun's senior, and Jun would be lying if he said he didn't find Nagase's roguish impropriety a little attractive sometimes, but Matsumoto Jun is a man who appreciates a little something called workplace ettiquette. Most of the time, anyway. He's sure the scene looks like something from a porno--a bad one--with Jun bent at the waist to peer into the second drawer of the short filing cabinet looking for merchant license forms and Nagase's hand resting gently on his ass. Nagase gets one good final grope in, and straightens, stretching his forearms across the top of the cabinet and looking at Jun seriously.
"I have a real job for you," he says, eventually, as Jun stacks pages. Jun walks to his immaculately ordered desk and drops his stack of papers in the center, then turns to lean on his desk and eye Nagase. When Nagase says something like that it only means one thing--that Jun can start using his espionage skills, instead of filing them away with the paperwork.
"Like what, sir," he asks, carefully keeping his voice level even though he's excited.
"Oh, you know, observing in Sakurai's office. I want you to see first-hand how the more exciting offices work. Commerce is a sleepover compared to the department of Justice."
"I... it would be an honor, sir," Jun says. He's taken aback by the command, of course, getting sent into Sakurai's office was about the last thing he expected. "I've always wanted to see more of how Chief Justice Sakurai does his work," he says, recovering. That, at least, is true. "And I look forward to working with him." That part isn't. Nagase is definitely looking for things that are dangerous, and nowhere is more dangerous than the Department of Justice. Not with Judge Sakurai at the helm.
"I'm sure you do," Nagase says, waggling his eyebrows inappropriately. Then he chucks his chin toward Jun's desk, where they both know a bug is kept.
So Jun launches into a more enthusiastic speech about how thrilled he is to be seeing how things are done in other departments and how he can't wait to learn about alternate systems for things that he can bring back to his home in the Department of Commerce, Councilor Nagase sir. Nagase reaches silently into his suit jacket and plucks a yellow square of paper from the inside pocket, which he then holds it for Jun to take.
"Keep talking like that and I'm going to think you really hate it around here," Nagase teases, while Jun slides the paper square into his half-full inbox to read later.
"That's not true," Jun says, "keeping the City's markets in order is a joy for me, you know that. Despite the sexual harrassment. Sir."
Nagase's eyes are remarkably serious when he speaks next. "Keep calling me sir and I'm going to do more than harass you, Matsumoto," he says, sliding into a leer, and Jun rolls his eyes. Of course Nagase picks up a new sense of gravity where his penis is concerned. He hears Nagase huff as he turns on his heel, pointedly ignoring the temper tantrum to come, and settles into his desk to order the licensing forms.
Jun doesn't look at the note until he's finished locking up the Councilor's darkened office. (Nagase had left hours ago, talking about doing a booze run before he settles down for the night.) The note is small, perhaps three inches on a side, and folded into fourths. Jun unfolds it when he's shut and tested the door, smoothing over the creases with his fingertips. In Nagase's distinctive scrawl is an address for an uptown apartment, and Jun wonders how Nagase's clumsy department spying hasn't been noticed before. Anyone keeping tabs on Nagase is going to assume Jun is his callboy--which, now that Jun considers it, is more clever than any other strategy Nagase might have come up with. Nagase's socializing circle and Jun's are quite different, and beyond work they've never been close friends.
He takes the only uptown train running at eight at night, flashing his official badges at the guards standing outside the gates and ignoring the eyes of loitering uptown socialites baiting curfew. He knows he looks out of place, in his season-old wool gray wool suit and striped navy blue tie amongst the slick trendy whites and greens of the men on the bar patios, but if Matsuoka Masahiro taught him anything during his spy training, it was that confidence is worn better than clothes.
He knows the apartment is uptown because no one asks for his ID at the door. The passcode for the elevator is written below the address in Nagase's note, and Jun inputs 8-7-6-4 with heavy determination. As soon as he steps into the elevator, something seems to click inside of him. He's here for a real job. He'd faced mandatory retirement at 25, and the three years in Nagase's department have been a good use of his organizational skills, but not much else.
The apartment is at the end of the hallway; the place has a name that isn't Nagase's on the plate, but the numbers match up so Jun raps on the door anyway. There's some rustling and what is clearly Nagase's voice saying 'wait one sec!' and then the door swings open. Nagase is standing there with a beer in one hand and his pants in other, looking pleased to see him. "Jun~" he says, loudly enough to wake the whole neighborhood, and drops his suit pants to get an arm about Jun's waist and haul him inside.
"Why are you not wearing any pants," Jun manages to get out in the midst of kicking his shoes off and not falling over.
"I hate pants," Nagase answers, which is apparently enough for him. He looks down at the beer in his right hand, and silently offers it to Jun. "Beer?"
"Not that one," Jun says, bending to line his shoes up to the edge of the genkan, heels together.
Jun steps after Nagase into the foyer, and blinks in surprise. He had been expecting--actually, he's not sure what he had been expecting. A sparsely decorated manpad, maybe. Something as messy and haphazard as Nagase himself. The place is actually tasteful, blacks and whites for the most part, including the leather couch that dominates the den Nagase leads him to. Jun eyes the bar set up along the other end of the room next to the TV, wondering if maybe... "Is this your actual apartment?" he asks, "it doesn't--it doesn't even look like you live here." Jun knows what a barely-lived-in apartment looks like--he lives in one, too.
Nagase shrugs, directing Jun to the couch. "I'm not in here much," he admits, "you want that beer?"
Jun leans back into the cushion of couch, dropping his briefcase on the floor. "Yeah, I think I do," he says, considering. He could probably use it.
The sound of a beer being opened is background noise next to Nagase's humming of some song from the radio that Jun barely remembers. Nagase crosses the room and presses the bottle into Jun's waiting hands, then flops back on the couch with a sigh. "...why is your leg over my thighs," Jun asks, politely.
Nagase's hand has settled on the back of Jun's neck. "So you don't run off," he ofers, with a bonus smirk that makes Jun's blood boil.
"Real job. Why," Jun says, officially out of patience as he shoves Nagase's leg away.
"Ah, calm down, we've got all night!"
"Now."
"You are the most uptight... okay, okay, don't give me that face, I'm going. I've been in the council offices for a long time--Nakai had just been promoted to Councilor of Commerce--and a lot of shit's changed, you know? Comes with the job. The one thing that didn't change? Chief Justices don't last."
"Because of the stresses of their jobs," Jun agrees.
"Oh, just come out and say it. Because of the executions. There's been a lot of Chief Justices--nobody can handle that much death. Not without abandoning whatever it is that got them promoted to the position in the first place. Nobody had lasted longer than a year before Sakurai. How long's Sakurai been in that spot?" Nagase's mouth is hard set. He looks grave.
"He's about to start his fourth year," Jun says, after a moment of calculation. "He had just been promoted when I retired from Espionage and joined the Council of Commerce."
"Exactly. Why? Don't tell me Sakurai's stronger than the rest of them--Mabo left the city when they offered him the spot, and he trained like a million spies to kill people."
"One hundred thousand, actually," Jun corrects, automatically, and then draws his mouth down. "You think they're doing something to him? Drugs or conditioning?"
"Exactly," Nagase says, pleased to have his thoughts anticipated--he's always been impatient.
"And you want me to get close to him and find out what it is. And then what do you intend to do with the information?"
Nagase shrugs. "Safeguard it so the same thing doesn't happen to you and me, probably," he says, casual about it despite the heaviness of his hand on Jun's shoulder.
Jun turns inward, toward him. "There's an us here," he asks, eyes flicking over Nagase's face.
There's no hesitation before Nagase nods. "We're in this sink or swim, together," he answers, "you can--you can say no to this. You're not an agent any more. But if you're doing this for me I'm gonna do everything I can to watch your back. You know?" His face is open; more open than Jun has ever seen it at Council meetings or in arguments with sleazy investors. It makes the hand still resting at the skin of his neck just above the suddenly-too tight suit jacket burn red hot, and Jun leans closer still, swallowing hard.
"Let's do this," he says, firmly, tongue darting out of his lips to wet at his lips. "I--I want to."
"I'm happy to have you on board," Nagase says, reaching out with his right hand to brush Jun's bangs aside with a soft brush of his fingers.
"Now just so I'm sure, let me go over this again," Jun hums, then. He leans closer, until they're sharing air. "I have to get close. Really--get into his good graces," he says, voice quiet. Nagase takes a deep breath, and releases it in a long puff across Jun's cheek when Jun pauses long for effect.
"And then you want me to find out each and every one of his secrets. Really--pull back the layers." Nagase's hands come down on heavy on the lapels of his suit coat, and the slide of his fingers down Jun's chest as he flicks the buttons open leaves a hot tingling trail even through the wool.
"Then you come back and tell me all about it," Nagase answers, pushing his hands through the cavern of Jun's open jacket to fist his hands at the sides of Jun's crisp white shirt.
Suddenly, it registers how close they are--and that Nagase is very clearly not wearing any pants. The bulge under the front flaps of Nagase's white button-down is abruptly apparent, and Jun has to drag his eyes away before he does something that will break the spell of the conversation. There will be time for that later. For now, the knot of his tie is like a noose, and Jun perches his beer between his knees before he reaches up to loosen it. He tugs at it momentarily, and then tosses it on the coffee table near his leg. Nagase's hands sieze in his shirt, pulling it taut, and he leans forward to press his mouth lightly against Jun's with a low sound in the back of his throat. Jun turns his head away after a moment, Nagase's nose pressed to his cheek.
"And then I make him forget I was ever even there," he mumbles, Nagase's face still touching his as his mouth moves. He feels it when Nagase takes a shaky breath in, then lets it out.
"Are you going to do that to me, too?" Nagase asks, his voice trailing over Jun's ear. His hands have gone flat against Jun's ribs, as level as the question now echoing in Jun's head.
"Not if you don't want me to," Jun says, carefully. He's never sure if his standing with Nagase is above or below 'guy I want to fuck'.
"I don't," Nagase answers in a rush, too quickly.
Jun is suddenly very thirsty; he fumbles for the bottle of beer and leans away, out of Nagase's space, to knock half of it back. It tingles in his belly, warm, and he glances at the contents for a moment before he settles the bottle on the coffee table, pointedly. Breaking away has resettled him; the burn under his skin has tapered some when he straightens, and he can think. "When do I start?" he asks, after a deep breath., Nagase's hands twitch over his ribs and then slide away, settling on Jun's knees instead.
"Your transfer is effective next-day," he says, and slides his hands up the top of the thighs with a smirk that is impossible to misinterpret.
Jun drops his hands heavy atop Nagase's. "Not now," he says, and flinches from the flicker of disappointment in Nagase's eyes. "You'll have to take care of Nagase Junior on your own this time."
Nagase groans, pulling away and flopping backward onto the rest of the couch. "You get off on this," he accuses, tilting his head up to stare at Jun.
"What, teasing? No, not at all, why would you say that?" Jun asks, quirking his lips.
"Nagachin hates you," Nagase informs him levelly.
It takes Jun a moment to realize Nagase is talking about his penis. "You named your dick," he says, at first, then blinks. "You named your dick--of course you named your dick, why am I surprised by this."
"He's my other half, he needs a name," Nagase answers, looking offended, "geeeez..."
"You are the most ridiculous man I have ever met," Jun finally says, shaking his head. "And now it's time for me to go home. Good night, sir. Good night... Nagachin--you couldn't have had a little more creativity?" He feels ridiculous having ever even said 'Nagachin', but apparently 'sir' does as much as he suspected and he files that particular information away for later.
"Nagachin is plenty creative," Nagase says, brows drawn down defensively, "don't be jealous of him!"
Jun has already given up on having this conversation; he's turned away, leaning forward to recover his tie and fold it up, tucking it inside his briefcase. He stands, buttoning his jacket one-handed and then stooping to fetch his bottle of beer. He's already finished his detour to the kitchen to toss it in the trash and is in the midst of putting his shoes on when he hears the sounds of Nagase stripping. "At least wait until I'm out of the apartment before you start jacking off to me," Jun commands, and glances back over his shoulder to see Nagase tossing his white button-down shirt on the floor. "I mean it," he adds, flattered but exasperated. As if he wasn't already wishing he could stay--but he needs to have to his mind on his work.
---
The Department of Justice employs roughly a third of all govenment hires, which is either really depressing or a really inspriring number to aspire to. Either way, Chief Justice and Councilor Sakurai makes his office in the same complex where Nagase and the small staff of the Department of Commerce's oversight office make their home. Jun is early--he's always early--and he lingers momentarily outside of the Department of Commerce offices, trying to see if Nagase's office light is on, before he shakes his head and walks down the hallway. By 8 AM, the massive wooden doors of the Justice Department's offices will be open, but at barely 7 Jun has to use his keycard to get inside.
There are more people inside than he expected, working in their cubicles. The place is strangely quiet the way the Commerce offices never are--generally because as soon as Kiriyama and Kawai are in a room together they work everyone else into a froth, and Nagase himself never helps the situation--and most people don't even look up when Jun walks past. It is more than a little unnerving, but Jun shrugs on all of his confidence as he passes past Sakurai's secretary's empty desk and raps twice on the open door. "Excuse me," he says, when the man bent over the espresso machine in the corner doesn't move.
"One--second--yes--hi," says Sakurai. He looks like he's been awake all night, his hair mussed and bags forming under his eyes. His shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his suit jacket is balled up on the floor--he probably slept on it. All in all he seems like a mess--which is why Jun's heart jumping around surprises him.
"Um," Jun says, and shakes himself. "Hello, sir, I'm Matsumoto Jun from Commerce. They have me observing here...?"
"Ah, right, Nagase's deputy, right," Sakurai says, "sorry, I've been here for two days reading up on this case. You can sit, we'll talk while I do this. You have a background in Accounting, right?"
Jun is surprised Sakurai knows this. "Yes," he says, "I got my degree in my last year of military service." Sakurai directs him to sit in one of the chairs across from the desk, and he settles into the plush green and dark wood chair with his briefcase and his overcoat pulled across his thighs.
"Right, right," Sakurai agrees, and flips through one folder, then another. "Where the hell did I put that red ledger," he grumbles half-aloud, and begins to move things around.
Jun can see it under half a stack of legal books. He reaches out, closes his fingers around it, and tugs, once, twice. "This one?" he asks, once he's holding it up, and opens it to glance through. "Ledgers for Masaki Dot Com," he adds, "right?"
"That's the one," Sakurai says, snapping his fingers and plucking it directly from Jun's hands. "They're gonna get them this time..."
"They're going to get who?" Jun asks, brow furrowed.
"Aiba Masaki and that girl of his," Sakurai answers, "they're inventors contracted to the military, we think they've been working on AI instead of weapons systems. The boys in prosecution haven't been able to nail them on anything, but if I can find them something about contract breakage in his budget books, they've got it." Sakurai looks afire with--justice, maybe. It makes Jun shift uncomfortably in his chair.
"You're the judge," he says, "aren't you--fair?"
"Oh, I'm fair," Sakurai answers, levelly. His face is very calm. "No other person in this City is more fair than me. That's why I'm the Councilor."
Jun shivers. "Of course, Councilor," he says, finally.
Sakurai seems to shake the mood off. "Call me Sho," he says, "do you mind looking at these numbers and telling me if they match up?" He thrusts the red ledger at Jun, who has no choice but to take it in his hands.
"I can do that," Jun says, "where should I...?"
"Oh, you can have my secretary's desk. She's not coming back."
Somehow, it's chilling, the way Sakurai says it. Jun leaves Sakurai's office and settles at the old Secretary's desk, and the silence seems less unnerving and more oppressive as he begins to check receipt numbers and check prices.
